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by merlin_the_dragonlord



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Arthur Pendragon Returns, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlin_the_dragonlord/pseuds/merlin_the_dragonlord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a thousand years of waiting, Merlin has lost all hope. But this is the moment that destiny has been waiting for and Arthur Pendragon is returned from Avalon. For when Albion needs him most, the Once and Future King will rise again.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Note: The suicide attempt mentioned in the tags is very brief- one sentence. I apologize if it does trigger anybody. 
> 
> This is for one of my best friends, who recently discovered Merlin, and has been asking me to write stuff for her for a while.

The day Arthur returned was not a special day. At least, that’s what it felt like to Merlin when he woke up. Over a thousand years had passed, with no shortages of disasters. Merlin held onto his hope that one day, he would wake up and the magic of the Lake of Avalon would call to him and inform him that his king was returning. Alas, destiny was not so kind to Emrys. 

After a thousand years, Merlin had finally settled down in a small cottage near the Lake of Avalon and the surrounding forest. It was peaceful and quiet, a nice change after the years of travel and hustle and bustle, looking for the next disaster that threatened the world. Looking for the next signal that Arthur may have been returning. The search was exhausting and quite frankly, Merlin was feeling the last of his hope trickling away. There had been no mention of an Arthur Pendragon anywhere since Merlin designed and created the program that would automatically search all databases across the world for the name of the Once and Future King. He had scoured the seven continents, learned about everything in the world, and yet, there was no sign of Arthur. One day, in the middle of Japan, Merlin had collapsed from the sheer exhaustion and despair. He had managed to shrug it off as overexertion from the rigorous academic program he had falsely enrolled it, but the truth of the matter was that he had lost all hope. As the last vestiges of hope slipped away, he felt himself growing colder on the inside. 

Merlin was surprised at how mundane the feeling of hopelessness felt. He had held onto the thought that he would be reunited with Arthur once again for so long that he had forgotten what any other emotion felt like. Sure, there were evanescent promises of happiness and sometimes sadness when a friend passed away, but after so long, those emotions seemed superficial and wrong, in a sense. The last time he remembered feeling truly happy was when he watched Arthur pull Excalibur from the stone and turning to him with the brightest smile on his face. Strangely enough, Merlin couldn’t remember that smile anymore. He had so many albums full of his travels and the people he met in the world, but none of them held a candle to his king. 

The rage came next. Anger at his magic from preventing him from joining Arthur in Avalon, anger at destiny for being the cruelest mistress, anger at time for being the mocking master that dictated his life. He had genuinely tried to remain strong after Arthur’s death, but once everyone he knew and loved in Camelot had passed, his will had faltered and he had attempted to poison himself with hemlock. It was painful, but his stomach rejected the poison and he had found himself throwing up not a candle mark after his ingestion. It was then that Merlin realized the implications of being Emrys. Immortal. 

With that train of thought, a realization struck Merlin. He was Emrys, and therefore, immortal. But he recalled the wraith of Tristan DuBois and the words of Gaius. No mortal blade could harm him. That’s when he remembered that the sword Arthur so proudly wielded was not a mortal blade. A sword forged in dragon’s breath was capable of destroying even the most magical creatures, so logic dictates that it was enough to kill Emrys, right? He approached the lake side and began to ask the Lady of the Lake for Excalibur. It was a formality, really, since he knew he could take it by force if the Lady would refuse his request, as she did. 

He brought out his hands and began to speak, a spell at the tip of his tongue when there was movement behind him. He whirled around and felt his heart stop. Arthur stood there, in a red hoodie and jeans, but looking no older than he did on the day he died. A smile blossomed on his face and there was a jolt of pure, unadulterated joy that ran through the warlock. Arthur held out his arms and Merlin half-staggered, half-ran to his king, unwilling to believe that after all this time, he had finally returned. Arthur was warm, unlike the last time Merlin held him in his arms and the tears came of their own accord. He thought that Arthur would berate him for ‘still being a girl after all this time’, but he was shocked to find tears that were not his own falling onto his skin. 

“Welcome home, Merlin.” Arthur’s voice was rough with emotion and his arms were gripping him a little too tightly, but Merlin would not have traded all of the riches in the world for this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written very quickly and with very little direction, so if anything seems off, I'm sorry. I do not intend on continuing this story, but I hope you liked it! 
> 
> Please leave a comment and kudos if you did like it, if you didn't, feel free to leave a comment with constructive criticism, although be warned that this was a fairly quick story that I typed out very late at night.


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